


Gossipmongers

by MarieLamb_B



Series: Ink Shape [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Don't jump into conclusions, First half of 20th century was a dark age for minorities, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, LGTB+ issues..., Let's be serious..., M/M, Wally's a goof, change my mind, nice ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieLamb_B/pseuds/MarieLamb_B
Summary: You can't really enjoy a date when you know someone's waiting for you at home.





	Gossipmongers

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. I got a spark yesterday and I _Had_ to write it before it was gone.  
> Just that.  
> Also, can't say that I really ship them, but at this point, I think I'm more a multishipper inside this fandom ~~(I blame[Control_Room](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room) for this).~~  
> Anyways. I hope you enjoy this!!

It was pass 1 in the morning, and the door creaked slowly, letting the lights of the hallway glow a bit in the rather dark apartment. You could say if someone has arrived home so late it was just because they had fun. Not like he cared really.

“So, how was your date?” Sammy asked from the sole lightened corner in the room, sitting next to the windowsill and bathed in moonlight coming from the window.

Wally seized any movements as he tried to process the idea of the man still awake at such late hours only to give him a little scare-. _Why had he to be so dramatic?_

“Eh– Y’know!” He started nervously. “Quite a dame, really pretty! He heh...”

He started to take off his jacket as he kept his stare fixed in the musician, warily. All the while the man didn’t give him more than a crooked brow and an unamused look, expecting more. But against anything expected, the humble janitor only stayed there, bouncing nervously in his toes and with arms straight down and tight against his own body, still looking at the musician with a wobbling smile.

“...”

“...”

“...And?” Sammy asked finally.

“Ah– ‘and’ what?” High pitched voice betraying his already crumbling stance.

“Where’s the catch?” He insisted.

“Catch? Psh... There’s no ‘catch’. I mean, what’s a ‘catch’, anyways? I don’ even know the meanin’ of that. Anyways, it doesn’t matter, I’m outta here, bed is callin’ mah name–”

“Wally–”

“IT WAS AWFUL!” He finally broke, plumping into the man’s chest and crying way too overdramatically, much for the musician’s likeness, whose response was a disgusted grimace and an awkward pat in his head. “I mean– I mean... She spent the night fidgetin’ with her nails, to later I find she was pushin’ back and _cuttin’ her cuticles!_ And, and then... Her _Hair!_ Gosh, if it weren’t her nails was _her stupid hair!_ She spent the rest of the time trimmin’ it and brushin’ it with her fingers! And don’ make me start with her voice!”

It was obvious he wanted to be asked about her voice. “What had her voice?” Sammy asked monotonously.

“IT SOUNDED LIKE A SQUEAKIN’ TOY!” He wailed, absolutely not squeaking himself. “Oh, geez... and ya know what’s the worst part of it all?”

“No, but obviously you’re gonna tell me.” It didn’t matter if the janitor actually heard that.

“She actually _liked_ the date. _She liked me!_ ” He whined out loud, clearly disgusted.

“...I don’t see the problem with that.”

Wally stopped his mourning– way too quickly– to shot a really stern glare to the man for once.

“...Ya kiddin’, right?” He stood up in a jolt, letting the moonlight show all his features clearly. “I mean, _look at me!_ ”

Sammy took his couple of seconds to look at the young man carefully from head to toes, not showing any sign different to his common unamused and apparently uninterested face.

“Yeah, I look at you.” He answered, too literal for the likeness of the janitor, and he was well aware.

“No! You–... I mean... C’mon, Sammy. Ya even know too well why I am just a janitor!”

“Because is a lousy job and no one would give you the time of the day even if their lives depend on it? And hopefully not, as you do such mediocre job that everyone complains” He ended murmuring.

“Exactly! Wait– except the part of the complains; no one can complain to such a cute face like mine.” Wally bragged.

“ _I_ complain all the time.” Sammy clarified, narrowing his eyes to his companion.

“Aw, but I know ya don’ mean it.” He tried to soothe playfully.

“ _I mean it._ All the time.”

“But Sammy, If I get my job done by yer office so well and fast, we wouldn’t spend so much time together!” Wally approached his cheeky face to Sammy. And the musician, with a huff, rolled his eyes in attempts to fight a smirk creeping in his face and pushed Wally away– hopefully, he didn’t notice.

“Work time doesn’t count. I already told you.”

“Then what other time do we have, Sammy?” The way his playful demeanor changed so abruptly actually caught the man’s attention. “C’mon Sammy. It’s already too weird that a man like you took in a guy like me to their home!” He plumped once again, but this time taking seat next to the musician, slouched and allowing the moonlight to hide his features in the shadows as it only bathed his back. “We... we can’t go and have dates like... like _normal people_. We can’t hold hands as we walk along. Heck, we even can’t go to work on the _same freakin’ hours!_ And now...!” He jerked a little, enough to allow the man next to him to see his somber face, all constricted in sheer frustration. “Now I _have_ to go and date ladies that I certainly _don’ like_ , and all to avoid any rumors that could surge with all of this!”

Sammy saw him, and honestly he hated to see him so frustrated and emotionally exhausted. He’s supposed to be the happy-go-lucky between them and Sammy was the moody grouchy one; he wasn’t good at cheering up like the janitor was! But he had to try... at least for him...

“Well, it seems like you’re doing a really good job in it. I haven’t heard anything weird about me at least. Susie would’ve told me already.” ...Gosh, he was so bad at this...

“Really, Susie?” Wally responded deadpanned. “ _I am_ the first one that gets to know whatever rumor runs around the studio. And if Susie haven’t told ya anythin’, it was because _she_ was the one askin’ me for somethin’ curious or dirty about _you_ now that I live at yer place.” Sammy wasn’t a man too expressive far from moody and angry, but Wally always had his ways to notice the man’s real impressions; just a little jerk or a twitch from his face was enough for him to read his emotions like a book. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. And _that’s_ why I’m doin’ this. So those gossipmongers stop their chatterin’.”

“...I didn’t know you were so worried about what others think of you.” Maybe his tone was as plain as usual, but for Wally was too clear the hurt hidden in his words.

“ _Me?!_ Oh, for God’s sake. I don’ give a penny what them think of me. Sammy, I’m worried about _you._ ”

Again, a little twitch that Wally easily recognized, even if his words tried to not reflect it.

“M– maybe you should calm down a little, as you normally do. I don’t really care.”

“For real, Sammy?” The musician just shrugged, but the janitor gave an honest huff of pure exasperation. “Then what do ya think woulda happen if them rumors keep going?” Another shrug. Another stern glare. “What if them gossipmongers go to Joey? What’ll happen with yer career?” A flick of his eyes; doubt. “Look, I don’ care what them think’a me. They could fire me, I don’ mind. There’s tons of reasons to fire me! But _you_...” He straightened his stance, fully watching the man next to him with creased brows and lovely compassionated eyes.

“Sammy, I really don’ care ‘bout me. I could be on the streets, spittin’ on some shoes to give ‘em some shine for a penny. Heck, I didn’ even finish school! I got nothin’ to loose! But unlike me, Sammy... ya had to climb with claws and teeth to get were ya are. How many can say that ‘bout their life? ‘Bout their dreams?”

“More than I’d care to count, actually.”

Wally released a giggle as he stretched his hand, reaching for Sammy’s and lacing their fingers, letting the man to rub his hand with his thumb.

“Well, I’m not on that count, for sure. But even though, I don’ wanna see ya loosin’ all ya have worked for just by mah fault.”

“Wally, it’d never be your fault. Don’t say that–!”

“It’ll be if them find out!” He cut off his companion, although a wave of shame quickly invaded him and made him to release his hand. “Just... Look, I’ll keep with this datin’ thing, and then none’ll suspect anymore. With one of us datin’ dames, then no one’ll be talkin’ ‘bout... _us_... and ya’ll have no worries if them go with Joey or Susie or any other.”

As he concluded his sentence, he swiftly made his way up and out of the spot next to the music man, or at least tried. As soon as simply stood up, a tender hand stopped his withdrawal, enlacing its fingers with his owns. He gave a glance, only to notice the reduced demeanor his partner held, not even daring to rise his stare.

“...Sammy, I, ah–...”

“When you said out loud that you finally got a date with this ‘swell dame from the coffee shop’– as you described...” He sighed. “Not gonna lie, I thought you got bored of me of something; that you wanted try something... ‘new’. It... honestly made me upset...” He released in a whisper. And Wally slowly returned to sit on his spot next to him. “Worst part was when you came and asked me some advice on what to wear and what could you get for her in the middle of the break room...” he trailed off, but he didn’t need to say anything else. He was already a quite reserved man, and being so open, even with Wally, made him feel vulnerable; and Wally felt overwhelmed.

Shame, regret, hurt, sadness; a bunch of emotions started to pile upon the janitor’s chest. And feeling the menacing sting of tears in the corner of his eyes, he freed his hand from the musician’s, only to quickly change to a tight hug, using his hands now to rub by his hair and back in a soothing manner.

“Am... am sorry, Sammy. I just... saw how all those rumors started to run and I had to think fast. I thought of tellin’ ya, but also thought that they’d suspect even more and that it woulda help ya to keep yer moody grouchy façade. But y’know, in the end I’m not the most smarterest.” He finished with an attempt of a laugh, but felt hollow with all those tears rolling down his face.

“Heh, and you can properly use the word ‘façade’?” He smirked a bit, although genuinely. “You are the most smarterest.” And that reassuring made the janitor authentically giggle a bit.

“Ha! I made ya say–”

“DON’T.” He growled, more in character. And Wally shut his mouth.

They stayed there for a while; tears long since dried and any remorse steadily fading. And as Wally kept caressing his hair, Sammy started to sink into the janitor’s essence, burying his face on his neck, and so starting to stamp tender kisses from his shoulders and crawling up to his face. Ticklish as he was, Wally recoiled a tad when he climbed upon his neck. And as closer he got to his face, the Janitor slowly turned his towards the musician, until both their lips met and pressed against each other’s. Still bathed in the moonlight as their only witness.

“I’m sorry, Wally.” Sammy said once they parted, sight staring down. “Even if you’re a real pain in the studio and just... a moron– most of the time, I should’ve trusted you, and not jump into conclusions without even asking you what’s the matter.”

“Heh. And apology from you, who woulda told!” He cheered, regaining his playful demeanor little by little. “Maybe that mean I didn’ screwed all this time fer once.”

“Don’t push your luck.” He retorted, and obtaining that goofy innocence-pleading smile so proper of the young janitor. _Gosh, what a lovely goof_. “Better we head up to bed. It’s already past 2 and we gotta go to work in the morning. You before me.” He motioned to stand up, offering his hand to Wally so he could stand up too, and keeping it held as they moved towards their room.

“Yer right. But I guess I should warn ya: is quite probably that I’ll lose mah keys by yer office durin’ the day.”

“Please don’t do it. I have to finish like 15 songs for Drew.”

“But what if is an accident?”

“I’ll leave them hanging from the knob. Outside.”

“Aw... And what if we meet by Norman’s both later?”

“Don’t involve Norman. He already has a lot in his plate.”

“But, Sammy, I _need_ my dose of annoyed grunts comin’ from ya at work. Even more since that date!” Wally whined, but sleep-deprived Sammy didn’t allow much.

“Boohoo.”

 “But–”

“I said boohoo.”

“Aw, yer not fun.”

“Fun, eh? Then why not enjoy another sweet date with this ‘swell dame’?” Sarcasm dripped each word, but something in his eyes glinted with malice. “Actually, why don’t you ask her if she has a friend that would want to date me?”

“...Yer smiling. Why are ya smiling? Is these a kind of vengeance?” As the man’s smile widened a notorious tad, Wally felt safer listening to his instincts.

“Eh, we’ll see. It’ll all depend on if things work.”

They reached their bed, ready to sleep and leave any trace of suspiciousness aside– except for the ones Wally himself has started to build. Gosh, this man could be dangerous if he wanted; a ‘hopeless romantic’ for the ones outside his personal life; but a romantic nonetheless, as Wally knew far too well.

Oh, boy. What did he get himself into?


End file.
